


Tim Drake: The Tiny Robin

by Sora_197



Series: Tim Drake's Pokemon adventure [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pokemon Fusion, Crossover, Kid Tim Drake, More Gotham dark than Pokemon Light, One Shot, Pokemon Journey, Realistic, Tiny Tim Drake, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-30 00:52:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10865628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sora_197/pseuds/Sora_197
Summary: Gotham's a place shrouded in thick black smog and filled with people doing everything they can do to survive in the cutthroat city. So it was obvious that only the most resilient Pokémon can thrive in a City drowning in crime and death.Edited: 6/22/2017, 12:41 PM





	Tim Drake: The Tiny Robin

Gotham's a place shrouded in thick black smog and filled with people doing everything they can do to survive in the cutthroat city. So it was obvious that only the most resilient Pokémon can thrive in a City drowning in crime and death.

Poison Types can be found gorging themselves on the trash and muck deep in the massive sewer network beneath Gotham.

Dark and Ghost types hide in the shadows of crime and death filled alleyways; forming complex and intimidating packs.

While small annoying Flying Types flock to the many skyscrapers or congregate on the sidewalk; getting yelled at rushing businessmen and woman.

Both the lives of the Humans and Pokémon are so intertwined in day to day hardship that has created a give-and-take relationship. The humans use the wild Pokémon for security and labor force, and the Pokémon use the humans for food and shelter.

But with a City so dark there will always be those who want to just use and abuse anyone or thing. Pokémon are captured and forced to fight constantly in underground fighting leagues. Being abused and starved so that the animal will fight in a more feral and brutal way. The Gotham City Police Department (G.C.P.D) is a very corrupted department and most of the member (instead of helping to save the creatures) are being bribed to look the other way or even participate in the leagues. Jim Gordon more than once tried to establish a Pokémon Gym; hoping that a group of loyal and advanced Trainers would be able protect the wild Pokémon. Because even though people live and work with Pokémon everyday, there are very few legal Pokémon Trainers.

One could become a Trainer at the age of 10 and paying a fee of $450, they would also receive a Pokédex. The Pokédex holds the Trainers information, progress and a detailed encyclopedia on any Pokémon in the world. The price of Pokéballs could arrange from $1 all the way $100 per ball. Many are just not able to afford the prices.

The middle-class and one percent though could afford the prices and would parade their Pokémon. The one percent are known for dressing the creatures in extravagant clothes and drenching them in essential oils so they will shine and smell pleasantly. Within the one percent the Drake family with its three members are known for their intentional avoidance of Pokémon.

The beautiful icy blonde, Janet Drake nee Messana would frown or glare if a Pokémon drifted to closely to her family. Even placing herself between the animals and her son Timothy Drake. Her husband Jack Drake is a happy man and who loves his family very deeply; so would gladly follow Janet in her decisions on how family matters should be handled. When Janet becomes restless and bored (which was often if there was no intellectual stimulation around her) Jack is always quick to suggest a new trip to some exotic land. When these spontaneous trips happen Timothy is left at the Drake Manor with a nanny.

Today was one of those days.

The nine year old Timothy Drake adjusts his xanthous (yellow, the color was yellow) and umber (just a fancy word for brown) striped school tie. Tim straightens up and squares his shoulders when his door opens and Janet Drake sauntered in. Her pale blonde hair twisted in a elegant low-side bun and her long dark blue wrap dress swishes around her pale legs as she draws closer to her only child. It always amazes Tim how calm and collective his Mother always can be. Even at 7:10 am on a Monday she was fully functioning and has all of her traveling luggage neatly packed in three navy blue suitcases that currently sit waiting by the front door.

His parents have only been home two weeks from their last trip in Switzerland. They stayed in Switzerland for 3 months.

Neither mother nor son are garrulous individuals and prefer their actions to speak for them. Tim adjusted his tie one last time and straights his simple white button down, before pulling on the umber color sweater vest. Last was the three button blazer which was umber colored with xanthous braiding. Tim mentally rolls his eyes at the fancy and unnecessary names for dark brown and yellow. Janet moves and silently helps Tim to slide on the blazer without wrinkling his clothes.

Once Tim's uniform is on Janet tugs and straightens any wrinkles or brief flaws, making sure it is impeccable. After that task is done She gathers Tim's hair brush and picks a yellow hair tie. She likes how the bright yellow looks on Tim.

Tim basks in his mother's attention; knowing in a few minutes she and Father will be flying off to the other end of the world by themselves. The boy closes his eyes and relaxes to the feeling of the brush slowly going through his hair. His hair just barely brushes his tiny shoulder, and he couldn't help but remember how a few days ago his Father had suggested Tim need a haircut before getting shushed by his wife.

'The longer hair makes Timothy look lovely'

Tim opens his eyes when he hears his mother hum as she finishes her task, and securing his hair with the tie. Janet slowly turns him to face her and they both stare at each other taking in and analyzing the others details.

"Hands" Janet's voice is soft and cultured.

Tim offers hands palms up. He watches as his Mother pulls out a small round container (Tim frowns he missed the small purse hanging on her own tiny shoulders) filled with a green tinted balm. The balm is made of the Aguav Berry, an extremely sharp and bitter smelling fruit and mixed with a product called Max Repel. The fruit is hated by the vast majority of Pokémon and mixing with the spray; made for the ultimate repellent. Janet places a light kiss on her son's pale forehead after she finished rubbing the balm onto his wrists.

Janet opens her mouth to speak (Tim leans slightly forwards not wanting to miss any of his mother's words) but the door is thrown open and Jack Drake is huffing for breath. Exclaiming about a random rain storm in Mexico, a mud slide and a buried excavation site. Husband and Wife become like a tempest; talking rapidly and in strained voices. The couple walk out of the room with fixed strides; leaving Tim alone with only the bitter smell of the balm and a faint kiss mark on his forehead. For a second Tim wants to be childish and yell for his parents. Beg for them to stay for breakfast; but he knew if they staid Tim would have no freedom. Already the pressure to be the perfect son is pressing heaved onto his shoulders.

Tim makes his way down to the kitchen at 7:20 (He had to scrub at the lipstick mark on forehead) to Mrs. Honeysteep placing his hot breakfast (two perfect over medium eggs and toast) in front of his preferred seat at the traditional cherry kitchen island. Mrs. Honeysteep is Tim's nanny and she too amazes him. She always knows when he is hungry (probably because she has four of her own) and the food is also perfect. She was so unlike any of Tim's previous nannies. She actually worries about Tm staying at the Drake manor by himself at night. As touching as the worry was, Tim couldn't let Mrs. Honeysteep restrict his little bit of freedom.

Exactly ten minutes later Tim waves to Mrs. Honeysteep as he starts walking down the driveway towards the white mini bus waiting outside the steel gates. She only works at the Drake Manor from 6am to 1 pm, so he won't see her until tomorrow morning. Although Tim has to text her the moment he gets home and when he goes to bed; no previous nanny ever worried about him after they left for home.  
Tim smiles at the driver, Frank Rollo, as he steps onto the bus. Frank is a large German man with a very boisterous voice and the man's Crawdaunt sits directly behind him. The man isn't just a bus drive but also the security and protector to the eleven kids on his route.  
The nine year old moved towards the middle of the bus (he doesn't want the balm to irritate Frank's Crawdaunt); the other ten kids (all different ages) all sit separately either scrolling on their school issued PDA or typing on personal laptops. The bus travels down the road a few minutes pasting Brentwood Academy (the rich all- boys school), Tim would of been a student there if he wasn't accepted into Biancardi's Independent Academy.

Biancardi's Independent Academy is a newer school established around ten years ago by the Headmaster Izzet Biancardi; whom is a Gotham native. Born and raised in a poor Italian neighborhood, Izzet's intelligent isolated him from his peer and his low-class status made so no one took him seriously. Eighteen year old Izzet left Gotham for twenty-seven years before returning with multiple Doctoral Degrees and married to a famous Neurosurgeon. Together the couple establishes the first school dedicated to children with extraordinary minds. Tim at five had to take a series of tests and meet personally with Headmaster Biancardi for an interview before he was invited to attend the academy.  
Four years late Tim thrives in the independent environment. School starts exactly at 8 am; classes are mostly online and the Instructors travel around the classroom meeting each student to answer questions and give advice. The only classes that aren't online are Physical education and Core teacher meetings.

So that's how Tim spends the next about three hours writing and doing math, before lunch comes around. His class has seven other students that group together the moment the Instructor dismisses them for lunch. None try to talk to him as he grabs this things and makes his way out of the school building and towards flower beds; the September weather made it so the mornings are cold but by noon the temperature rises up to 80 degree. Picking the first shady tree; Tim sets down his messenger bag and quickly He strips of his top two layers (folding them and placing them inside his messenger bag because he wasn't raised in a barn); leaving him in only his white button down and tie. Even in the shade Tim feels the temperature but he doesn't like to sit in the cafeteria. If Tim is going to eat lunch alone; he would rather sit out in the open than inside a stifling room.

He sits down against the large tree (making sure to sit on grass not dirt) and grabbing his lunch box and PDA Tim checks the time (12:25 pm); his next class is PE at 1:00 pm and his last class of the day is Core Teacher meeting at 2:00.

' Might as well start on tonight's reading' Tim muses as he pops an apple cinnamon cookie bite into to his mouth and relishes the crunching sound of the snack. Mrs. Honeysteep true is amazing. The nine year old devours the snack bites and moved on to the ham and cheese pinwheels. As he eats, Tim grabs his PDA and clicks on to the reading app; he adjust how he leans against the hard tree bark trying to get comfortable.

"I double dogged dared you! you have too!" A younger boy voice hisses in frustrations.

"Please! I don't want too!" A second boy voice pleads.

"You have to! We did our dares, so have to do yours!" A young girl's voice insists.

Placing his PDA down Tim frowns as he stands up; he glances around but doesn't see them.

"Do it! Do it! Do it!" The boy and girl's voices start chanting and slowly getting louder in their obvious excitement.

Turning Tim starts to walk away from the flower beds and further into the tree line. The children's voice fill the small artificial forest with a frenzy-like energy. Their excitement palpable.

The hair on the back of Tim's neck raises and his palms are starting to sweat. The nine year old moves faster towards the jumbling sounds of the children's voices. Pasting trees and shrub, Tim draws closer to a large flower thicket; the voice are brimming with glee. He slowly leans forwards to part the plant a little so he could see what the children are doing. A brown haired boy and girl are standing next to each other; their hands are clenched into first and are shacking his their excitement. At the center of their burning attention is a lone red headed boy, who is shaking fiercely. The red-head lifts an object slowly above his head. His arms are shaking and the boy is whimpering like a kicked puppy. The object is large in child size hands and a brilliant vermilion and a light gray.

Tim for a first time acts without thinking. He busts from the thicket; with arms waving wildly, he yells the top of his lungs.

"Stop! what do you think you're doing!" The nine year old is lucky that the three children are younger than him and the red-head obviously already extremely nervous lets out a scream and drops the object before bolting from the woods. The two brown haired children now spooked, take off after their companion.

The brief burst adrenaline leaves Tim panting and hands shaking. He breaths deeply trying to slow his heartbeat from it frantic dance. It beats hard against his ribcage and Tim tries not to panic. After a minute of breath deeply Tim feels under control again; he never likes when he loses control on his emotions and impulses.

He makes his way slowly towards the deep red object; bending down Tim lifts the thing up to closer inspect it. The object is slightly tapered at one end forming an oval, it was hard with a light warmth to it. 'A Pokémon egg' Tim thinks as he looks around at the forest floor. There is a mass of twigs and large stones crumpled at the base of a slim but tall tree; glancing up Tim could make out a small bundle of twigs tightly packed into the fork of a low hanging branch. He frowns as he thinks of the kids throwing the stones at the nest. Pressing the eggs close to his chest unsure if it need body warmth he turns to leave, but he stops and stares at the two wet dirt lumps on the opposite of the small clearing away from the nest. The lump form splatter marks on the group mixed with red shell. Swallowing painfully Tim thinks about how thoughtlessly cruel children could be. He was sure the young children most likely thought the smashing of the eggs more of a game then a killing sentence. Tim couldn't just leave the remains out in the open for any scavengers; so he places the lone egg in a sunny spot and rolls up his sleeves. Collecting a small bundle of sticks and clenching them firmly in his fist Tim walks close to the wet lumps and getting on to his knees he starts to stab and dig at the tough floor.

For a few minutes Tim works at the forest floor with continuous jabs with his handful sticks. Sitting back on his hunches he exhales and checks the depth of the new hole. Nodding his approval Tim uses the sticks to gently nudges the closes lump of fluids and egg shell into the hole and packs the earth back in with his palm. Shuffling a little to move closer to the next lump he starts on the next hole and the process to bury that egg.

When he is finally done Tim gets up to stretch out his stiff back and winces a little as he looks at his dirt knees. Dusting himself as best as he could the nine year old shrugs and goes to collect the last egg. Picking it Tim slowly turns it around it check it for any cracks or abnormalities (although Tim probably wouldn't know if the egg has any abnormal marks or lumps) finding only smooth shell; he starts making his way back to his stuff.

Pasting shrubs and trees he starts to hear a faint ringing tone that is slowly getting louder with every step. Letting out a small gasp Tim starts to pick up his pace once he realizes that the ringing is coming from his bag. He winces as he grabs his PDA to turn off the alarm and checks the time.

1:15 PM

He's fifteen minutes late for his next class! Tim grabs for his lunch bag to stuff it into his bag and without thinking he grabs his blazer out of his bag to wrap haphazardly around the egg before he places into his bag and zips it close. He takes off in a brisk walk (the only reasons he's not madly sprinting is because he could imagine his mother disappointing stare) towards the gym. After getting to the gym and into the boy locker room, he then has to fight with his locker to open up and change out into his PE uniform.

End the end he misses half of the class and his teacher (Mr. Keller) makes him run laps that also ends up making him late for his Core Teacher meeting with Miss. Lennon. In his Core Teacher meeting they end up just going over his newest test results and plans out this week's and next week's learning schedule.

By the time 2:00 come around Tim is mentally and physically tired, he barely nods to Frank (the bus driver's Volcarona is curled up in the front seat this time) as he gets on the bus and moves to his seat. Closing his eyes and placing his sweaty forehead on the cool bus window (the glass warms up to fast for Tim's liking) he just tries to relax for a second. When the bus finally stops at his house Tim has to drag himself up and drowsily waves to Frank and starts to walk home. He only stops in the kitchen to grab a few (all)of the homemade mini donuts as he tiredly climbs the stair to get to his room. Placing the plate of donuts on the bedside dresser Tim throws himself face down on to the cool sheets of his bed and letting his bag to slide down onto the floor with a thump. For a few seconds Tim just lays there before shooting straight up once he realizes how loud the thump was.

Hastily Tim crawls on his belly to the end of his bed right above where his bag is laying on the floor. With his right arm Tim gently nudges his bag a little to see if there is any wet spot before pulling himself (the nine year old cures his short arms) closer to his bag and unzips it to look inside. He has to move his blazer to check the egg; dragging his fingers across the surface Tim only feels warm smooth shell. He reaches into the bag with both hands to pull the egg out as he turns on to his back. Tim lays the eggs on his stomach as he gaze at the ceiling of his room.

He'll make sure to tell Mrs. Honeysteep that he found the egg in the back yard.

But before Tim has to give the egg up he wants to study it a little. Tim's never really had an interest in any Pokémon; he's only ever seen them from afar. So he quickly sits up and starts to make his way to his desk; he'll do a little research before he starts on today's homework.

'Shouldn't take too long' Tim thinks as he boots up his computer and stuffs the mini donuts into his mouth. He starts on reading Professor Elm's theory on Pokémon breeding, then he get distracted reading the other paper by some of the most famous Pokémon Professors like Oak, Birch, Rowan, Sycamore and the young Kukui. There wasn't much hard facts on Pokémon but all of the Professors have their own detailed theories that most agree with. By the time Tim is able to pull himself away from all of the research his stomach is growling (the mini donuts weren't very filling) and his eyes are burning.

5:30 PM Tim winces at the time; he's spent more than three hours reading. He never knew Pokémon could be so fascinating. There was so many Pokémon out in the world and the Pokémon Professors have only scraped the top on all of the information out there. Tim loves learning about new subjects (it’s a Drake family trait); his own parent love traveling and learning more about ancient civilizations. Sighing Tim gently pets the egg in his lap, homework usually takes about two hours a night and another hour and half to do his nightly reading.

'Dinner first' Tim thinks as he cradles the egg in his left arm as he stands and stretches his right high above his head and flexes his toes. Humming a little when his joint make a satisfying crackling sound. He starts making his way down the stairs (taking two at a time) to the kitchen to see what Mrs. Honeysteep made.

Tim just has to warm up the plate of Italian stuffed pasta shells. After placing them into the microwave for a few minutes; Tim grabs a glass for some lemonade. When he places the full glass on the island counter he pauses when he sees a simple white box. Frowning Tim turns to gently lays the egg on a kitchen towel that's on the counter. Afterwards Tim turns again to give the box his full attention; he must of overlooked it when he grabbed his mini donuts earlier. There's a note from Mrs. Honeysteep saying it's a gift from his parents but they forgot to give it to him before them left in a rush. Tim gasps when opens the and finds an expensive digital camera.

A month ago he had commented that he would like to take up photography as a hobby in an email to his father. Smiling softly Tim takes out the camera to examine it; at the bottom of the box as a note in Father's messy writing saying that the study next to Tim's room was turned into a studio for him.

The moment he stuffed shells are done Tim is stuffing them into his mouth and trying to chew as quickly as he could. Wincing when the molten hot cheese and tomato sauce would stick to his tongue and his gums; he has to chug his ice cold lemonade to wash it all down. After eating his dinner as fast as he could Tim quickly collects his new camera and egg and scrambles up the stairs.

The study on his room floor is right next to his own room. Tim has to juggle the things in his arms as he tries to open the door. The plain study room is now completely changed. One wall has a large white backdrop with three large continuous studio lights surrounding it and a large umbrella light modifier. On the other wall is a large wardrobe and next to it is a few Speedlights and studio strobes. There is also a nice metal desk with a new computer and a large photograph printer. on the desk is case and lens for Tim's new camera. The boy is practically vibrating with excitement!

But Tim still has all of his homework to do. Pouting Tim closes the door (even though he really really wants to keep looking around) and goes to his room. Sighing he gently places both the egg and camera on his bed before he gets to his computer. Making sure to save all of the Pokémon research websites and logs into his school website to start on his homework. He's homework seems so much more boring now that he's starting to learn more about the wonderful world of Pokémon and having his very own studio next door. It's almost 9 PM after he finishes all of his homework and reading assignment. Rubbing his eyes Tim grabs a random pajamas and head to take a shower. After the nice hot shower Tim drowsily moves his camera to his bed dresser and curls around the warm egg.

Ling? Fleeetch! Ling Ling!!

Tim scrunches up his nose when something taps it; he frowns at the chirping sound. That definitely didn't sound like the shrill sound of his alarm. Shoving his head deeper into his pillow Tim tries to go back to sleep.

Fletchling! Fleeeeeeeetch!!

"Ouch! Ouch!!" Tim exclaims as he sits up holding his stinging cheek.

Blinking a few times as tries to make sense of the creature in his bed with his. It's a small bird creature with a reddish-orange head and big black eyes with small yellow triangle markings on the back of each eye. Its body and wings are a light gray with pure white wing tips; the bird Pokémon's tail is long and black with a pure white 'V'- shape near the tip, and at the very tip of its tail it sits in to two points. It's chirping and bouncing on Tim's bed with two thin spindly legs.

"Whoa" Tim whispers and slowly touches the bird's head with just his fingertips. The bird shares the same coloring as the egg and the egg isn't in the bed with him anymore so it wasn't hard to figure out what happened. The little bird Pokémon opens it mouth and trills lightly as  
Tim continues to pet it; smiling as the bird nuzzles his palm with its warm cheek and cool beak.

Looking at his clock to see his alarm isn't going to go off for another fifteen minutes, Tim throws off his blankets and picks up the little bird. The bird is very warm and fluffy Tim thinks as he cuddles it to his chest. He sits in front of his computer with the warm bird perched on his shoulder; he rapidly types in a quick description of the bird Pokémon before pressing search. "Fletchling: The Tiny Robin Pokémon Despite the beauty of it lilting voice, it's merciless to intruders that enter its territory." Tim reads out.

' Fleee! Ling Ling' Fletchling chirps happily and fluffs up its feathers.

Tim skims the text a little more and finds a few lines of information that help Tim figure out that Fletchling is a girl. Jumping up Tim grabs the plate full of donuts from his dresser and brings them back to his desk.

"These donuts are super health and made of berries and oats. So they should be just fine for you" Tim explains as he starts breaking one of the mini donuts into bird size bytes. Fletchling whistles a happy tune before it starts picking at the pieces. While Fletching eats Tim moves to open one of his room's window, pausing a little before making sure it's open enough.

"And when you're done you can leave whenever you want" Tim says a little softly.

'Tchling?' Fletchling chirps as she tilts her head.

Shaking his head a little Tim sends Fletchling a tiny smile and grabs a new school uniform from his closet before heading to the bathroom. Tim swiftly gets dressed and walks back into his room the moment his alarm starts shrieking. Sighing Tim shuts it off and gabs his school bag.

"Well" Tim starts before pausing he wasn't sure how much Fletchling could really understand.

"The window is open for whenever you're ready to go" He explains as he awkwardly waves a hand towards the window. Pausing again Tim watches the bird blink at him before she starts eating the donuts crumbs. Nodding he turns and head down the stair to start his day. As the day precedes its obvious that Tim is distracted at breakfast, agitated on the bus for some reason (why can't the bus go fast, stupid slow bus) and for the first hour and half of class Tim is completely inattentive to his classwork and he keeps reading the same four lines of text over and over and over. Grunting in frustration Tim lays his cheek onto fist and looks out the half open window. But Tim just becomes even more frustrated when he sees a flock of Pidove resting in a nearby tree. Closing his eye Tim tries to focus and calm down.

Ling! L-Ling!!

The nine year old shoots up when he heard the familiar trill of Fletchling. Looking franticly out the window Tim finds the tiny robin Pokémon standing on the window sill gazing straight at him. Seeing that she has Tim attention, Fletchling opens she tiny beak to chirp excitedly. He quickly check if any of the other students or instructors heard Fletchling but everyone was (thankfully) completely engross in their own work. Nodding to himself, Tim quietly moves towards the window and scoops the bird Pokémon into his arms. He scrambles to his seat and gabs his bag from the floor and moves it to his lap. And stuffs the Pokémon into his bag.

Grimacing a little when Fletchling starts screech but luckily the bag muffles it. The moment he opens the bag a little Tim has to shush the agitated Pokémon. Looking around a little to check where everyone it again, Tim slouches a little to get closer to his bag without looking like he's trying to put his head in.

"What in the world are you doing here? How did you even find me?" Tim feverishly whispers. The only reply Tim gets back is a sharp squawk back.

"You're the one that some how followed me here" He frowns and taps his finger on the angry robin's head. Fletchling puffs herself up before deflating and now she just looks sad. she just lets out tiny trills before looking up at Tim with big watery eyes.

"Okay! Okay! You can stay on my bag! But you have to be quiet" He whispers frantically because he really doesn't want to be the type of person who makes a small Pokémon cry. And just like that the tears are gone and Fletchling look really proud of herself. Tim turns back to his computer after securing his bag on his lap and grumbles about fakers and to smart birds. But he does finish all of his class work by the time lunch comes around. And spends all of lunch fighting with Fletchling over the dried fruits and nuts from his salad. During PE Fletchling sleep in his locker and Tim is able to get a new best time on his mile run. The school day ends with a pleasant meeting with Miss. Lennon. The day went from being rather awful to being a profitable day for some reason.

As great as the day has been Tim feels a little down when he gets home to an empty house. Fletching pops out of his bag and flies to her favorite spot on Tim's shoulder. Maybe she senses his sadness because she starts to tweet lightly and rubbing her warm head onto his cheek. Smiling a little Tim moves towards the kitchen for a snack. Glancing outside Tim could make out a flock of Flying Pokémon out in the distance. Sighing Tim picks up Fletchling from his shoulder he gently places she on the counter in front of him. With how short Tim is Pokémon and human are almost eye to eye.

"Okay so here it is" Tim pauses before continuing.

"I'm only nine so I really shouldn't even have a Pokémon and my family is known for its voluntary isolation for the Pokémon world. So I'm unlikely to be a become a train even when I'm ten. You'll always have to hide if there's adults around and you only can really be free here" Tim explains as he waves his hand indicating the empty kitchen.

"It's not fair to you to be treated like a dirty little secret." He looks down at the counter. Tim really wouldn't blame if Fletchling wants to leave after hearing all of this.

'FLETCHLING!'

Tim cries out in pain and cradles his stinging forehead. Fletchling keeps cawing and really giving Tim a piece of her mind. Tim looks up at the huffing bird with tiny tears in the corners of his eyes. They both stare at each other before Fletchling chirps a little and hops forwards to rub her head against his red forehead. A little unsure he picks up the Pokémon and holds her high above his head, and looks intensely into her big black eyes.

"If you're sure then you need a name" Tim hums a little before smiling brightly.

"I'll call you Hestia" He exclaims proudly.

" Flet! Flet!" Fletchling now dubbed Hestia twits happily


End file.
